


And This is How Nightmares are Born

by TheFishnetMonocle



Series: Poems for not_poignant's Fae Tales [1]
Category: Fae Tales - not_poignant
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Not Happy, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFishnetMonocle/pseuds/TheFishnetMonocle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Free verse poem centred around Augus - excuse me if it's terrible, I don't make a habit of writing characters that are not my own but I fell in love with him quite thoroughly and had to write this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And This is How Nightmares are Born

**Author's Note:**

  * For [not_poignant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_poignant/gifts).



The weeds have crawled into his lungs  
red and terrible, they are eating his heart  
in mouthfuls, gurgling blood and muscle.  
He cannot move his limbs, he cannot think,  
he cannot -  
_I am the strongest,_ says a bird made of teeth  
whose shadow swallows him in blinding terror,  
_how can you ever think you stand a chance_  
_I am your future and your future is dead._

When it spits him back out, his heart is no more  
except a small chunk, wedged in his throat.  
It whispers _‘ash ash ash’_  and nothing else.  
He does not know what it means, only that he must flee.  
But his ribcage has been wrenched open  
the tooth-coloured hinges splattered with gore creak  
they ache in purest agony.  
His brain has been carved out and prodded  
while the bird laughed, ice-cold and scalding all at once.

He touches his brow, below the inky fall of hair  
feeling one of the marks - still visible - where he was dissected  
and cries out as he presses the ribs back in  
even as his guts crawl between his fingers  
and drip dark clots upon the stones.  
I will kill you, he thinks savagely, but first _\- but first -_  
The scars are stark against his skin. They will vanish  
given time, but he cannot help but think -  
a crown and a royal mantle would cover them  
...quite splendidly.


End file.
